“Brother, you’re a sad bear,” said Miss Hamlin very gravely. “Gentlemen, now that we have drank our tea, I have been waiting in vain for one of you to suggest a promenade. Must I make the proposal myself?” “Pray permit me to wait on you out of doors, madam,” said both the strange gentlemen in a breath. “Well, indeed,” says Mrs Hamlin, “I think we shan’t do wrong in hiring a boat to take us on board to-morrow, since our time is like to be so short, and though it be dark already, the lights on the water afford a vastly agreeable prospect if we take a short stroll. You’ll accompany us, Miss Freyne?” But I excused myself on the plea of fatigue, and sat down to begin this letter, which diverted Miss Hamlin excessively when she came back into the parlour in her capuchin[1.07] to look for her muff. “I protest, miss, you’re quite an author!” she cried. “Sure you must be emulating the practice of the divine Clarissa?” “You’re right, miss,” said I. “Like Miss Harlowe, I am writing to the best of friends.” She went away laughing, and I employed myself all the time of their absence in writing these pages, which would not be so many had I not desired to fulfil my promise of making my Amelia acquainted with the companions of our voyage. This shocking scribble that follows is wrote in my chamber before going to rest, for I must tell you of some droll things that Mrs Hamlin has been saying. She is, my dear, the oddest kind of woman! Coming in with her niece about half-an-hour before supper, leaving the gentlemen downstairs, she sat down upon the settee, and requested me to spare her a moment. You may be sure I lost no time in complying, more especially since I catched a very whimsical glance from Miss Hamlin as I shook the sand over my paper. “I don’t doubt but you was a good deal surprised, miss,” says Mrs Hamlin, motioning me to take my place in the window-seat opposite her, “by my admitting those two young gentlemen to our company?” “Indeed, madam,” said I, “I never ventured----” “You thought I was a good easy body, questionless, and no prude, and you passed remarks upon my discretion in your mind, perhaps?” I had no chance to answer, Amelia, for she went on without stopping: “Then I would have you know, miss, that you was mistaken. My complaisant behaviour is dictated altogether by policy, and I will go so far as to open to you my mind in the matter, the more so since I am persuaded you are a young woman of sense.” “I shall hope to deserve your good opinion, madam.” “As for my niece Hamlin,” continued the good lady, “she has been bred up by her grandmamma, who was a toast in her youth, and even in her genteel retirement has not forgot the manners of the great world, so that she has, questionless, furnished her granddaughter with a whole battery of defensive arts. You han’t enjoyed this advantage, miss, but I don’t doubt the respectable gentlewomen who instructed you have warned you against the ways of Men?”